The elbow on my good arm connects with his jaw, but it’s not enough to dislodge his hold of me. And when he grabs my dislocated shoulder, I scream out in pain. It’s enough for him to land some good blows to my ribs, and I swear I hear the crack as they crumble under the force.
A boot connects with my gut, once, twice, until a groan forces past my lips.
Three against one is not fair.The thought filters through the pain as I lie curled into a ball, trying to protect my chest and head as the three of them stand around me, raining more blows on my body. Knees, lower back, and head.
Oomph! Oomph!
The beating stops abruptly, and one of them bends low. I brace for the worst.
“You need to stop before someone gets killed,” he growls above me. Even though I can’t see him fully, I know it’s the third man.
Lucia’s beautiful face flashes through my head. I have to keep her safe, and I try to get up.
But the dizzying pain overwhelms me, pulling me under.
Chapter twenty-four
Antonio
This could be the worst hangover ever. I bring my hand to my head, but I don’t make it halfway before a sharp, stabbing pain shoots through my chest, making me groan.Fuck, that hurts.
“Take it easy, Ant.”
Why is Gio here? And where is my wife?
I screw up my face, trying to peel my eyelids open, but it’s like they’ve been stuck together with glue. And I can only peer out of them through a narrow slit. Gio is a silhouette against the light flooding in through a thinly curtained window. I blink against the brightness. He’s leaning against the sill with his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his pants.
“Gio?” I croak through my dust-dry throat.
He pushes off and steps toward me. “Here, drink this.” A straw slips between my cracked lips, and the cool water tastes better than the most expensive champagne. Too soon, he removes it, then retreats to the window again.
“Thanks, but what happened?” I ask, and this time, it doesn’t hurt so much to speak.
“You nearly had the life beat out of you,” he growls.
I hear the words, and my body certainly aches like what he’s saying is true, but my head hurts too much for me to make sense of it.
“Where’s Lucia?”
“I called her, and she’s on her way in a private jet.” He looks at his watch. “She should be here in a couple of hours.”
“How long have I been here?”
“The doctor told me they brought you in around midnight. And I was called shortly after as the emergency contact in your cell.” His pose is casual, but the tense line of his shoulders and clenched fists give him away. “You still had your cell and wallet on you, so it wasn’t a mugging. Do you remember anything?”
My brain is fuzzy, and none of what he’s saying makes sense, other than the fact I’ve been beaten up. That is easy to comprehend when my body feels like it’s been run over by a truck.
My eyelids drop closed for a moment at the flash of a memory, before springing open again. “I was targeted, because one of them said, ‘You need to stop before someone gets killed.’”
“Them?”
“There were three of them. Big Italian fuckers.” I squeeze my eyes closed again, straining to recall more details. “Two of them hit and kicked me while I grappled on the ground with a third man. He was the one who spoke. It was dark and all over quickly, but they knew what they were doing.” It’s all flooding back now in a rush of memory. “Wait, I remember one of the guys had a five-pointed star on his hand.”
“Fuck, Mafia. This has turned dangerous,” he mumbles, swiping both hands through this hair. After a moment, he breaks the silence. “Did you meet with Salvatore?”
“Yep, at that bar near Centrale. We spoke briefly; he seemed dodgy as hell and escaped out the back as soon as I had the file.I’d just left the bar when they jumped me. They must have been following me.” I lift my right hand to reach for more water, and it’s completely covered in thick bandages like I’ve just gone a couple rounds with Mike Tyson. “Can I have some more water?”
Gio springs into action, holding the cup for me to sip again, and as I wet my sandpaper-dry mouth, Nico walks through the door.
